


A little bit of payback

by NeverAndAlways



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Demon Dean Winchester, Gen, Hotels, Short One Shot, Swimming Pools
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 04:59:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16056041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverAndAlways/pseuds/NeverAndAlways
Summary: Just a short, silly thing I wrote for a friend a couple years ago, but never posted. Maybe for good reason.





	A little bit of payback

"Do they at least have a pool?"

"I don't know."

"Well they'd better. 'S hotter than hell out here. And that's speaking from experience."

Sam rolls his eyes. Who cares if there's a pool? As long as there's a bed and running water, he'll be happy. He's not even sure where they are, other than the back end of nowhere. But the hotel is nice - the nicest they've stayed at in ages - and the receptionist doesn't even look twice at Dean when she checks them in. They find their room, and Sam's in the middle of demon-proofing the door (he learned that one the hard way) when he hears Dean yell.

"Ha, I was _right_!"

"Hm?"

"THEY HAVE A POOL!"

"Okay, can you not yell, though? We're not the only ones here."

Dean isn't listening. He's halfway out the door before Sam even finishes the sentence. Thankfully, that's as far as he gets. He looks down, then up at his brother.

"Dude. Really?"

"Yes, really. You're not going anywhere without me."

Dean rolls his eyes. "I'm a big boy, Sammy. I can take care of myself."

"You're also a demon." Sam puts a couple of towels, a bottle of holy water, and some salt in his backpack. "And I'm your brother. And you can wait."

Dean snarks under his breath while Sam calmly scuffs out part of the devil's trap. And no sooner has he said 'okay' than Dean takes off running.

"DEAN!"

Dean yells over his shoulder something about catching up, then he's long gone. This was supposed to be a _quiet_ evening...Sam sprints down the hall after him.

The pool is nice, just like the rest of the hotel. Big and deep and sparkling blue, with lights all along the bottom and a diving board at one end. And, thankfully, it's unoccupied. Sam's already playing babysitter for Dean, he doesn't want to be a lifeguard as well. There's an odd smell, though, something other than chlorine...he can't quite place it. Oh well, it's probably nothing.  
Dean's already got his T-shirt off and is struggling with his shoes; he looks up at Sam with that crazed sort of mischief the real Dean never had.

"You're gettin' slow, Sammy."

For a moment, Sam is tempted to play along, but he knows where that will get him. Instead he sits down on a pool chair to watch.  
Dean tosses a shoe at him. It lands a few feet away.

"You're not even gonna get in?"

"No."

"Fine, whatever..." Dean looks around; his gaze lands on the diving board, and his eyes light up. He grins wildly at Sam, then lopes across the concrete to the other side of the pool and climbs up. "Watch this, Sammy!" he takes a couple steps back, runs forward, and jumps. It's a nice dive. Dean's long limbs fold in and he hits the water as a compact ball of demon. And it's at that moment that Sam recognizes the smell: saltwater. Well, too late now.  
The splash lands on the concrete a few inches from Sam's feet. Ripples spread across the water, and he can just see Dean's distorted form underneath. Water sloshes on the edges of the pool. A few seconds tick past. And then, with a puff of smoke and a sizzle, a splashing, cursing shape resurfaces. Sam just watches as Dean flails and tries to go in six directions at once to get out. He has no intention of helping. After all, Dean _did_ say he could take care of himself. The demon finally hauls himself out of the water - still swearing loudly - and continues to flail around like he's trying to get out of his own skin. He sizzles a bit where he touches the concrete. Eventually Sam gets up and walks over to him, towel in-hand.

"You look like you could use this," he says, and drops it on him.

 

* * *

 

 

A few minutes later, they're back in their room. Dean went straight for the bathroom; Sam can hear him splashing around and swearing under his breath. Which is good, because he thought he might crack a rib trying not to laugh; now he's leaning on the wall and his stomach hurts from laughing so hard. The water turns off. There's a thoughtful pause.

"It's not funny, Sammy!" Dean roars from behind the bathroom door. "Quit laughing!"

"Who's laughing? I'm not laughing." Sam gasps.

"I HEAR YOU. IT'S NOT FUNNY."

"Yes it is, you have no idea." Sam says, more to himself than to Dean. Dean goes back to swearing. In the bottom of his backpack, Sam's phone chirps plaintively. He digs it out; it's a text from Cas.

**< How is Dean?>**

He thinks for a moment before texting back:

**< Angry.>**

**<??? >**

**< Apparently saltwater pools are a thing. Tell you tomorrow.>**

Sam puts away his phone and climbs into bed, feeling better than he has in a long time.

 

ooO0Ooo

**Author's Note:**

> If you like the story, please leave a comment -- I'd love to hear from you!


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